


calm as the wind, she's on my mind

by niniadepapa



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Celebrity, F/M, celebrity/non celebrity au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-29
Updated: 2015-05-29
Packaged: 2018-04-01 20:49:49
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,603
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4034098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niniadepapa/pseuds/niniadepapa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"It very well may be your only chance at talking to the girl of your dreams.”<br/>If possible, his flush spread wider. It wasn’t like he had never talked about his admiration for Emma Swan with Graham, but he hadn’t realized he had let his embarrassingly big fat crush on her show that much. “She’s not the girl of my dreams. She’s just…”<br/>“The girl you dream of being with. Also known as ‘the girl of your dreams’” Graham replied knowingly. Killian shook his head.<br/>“If she’s a celebrity it doesn’t really count.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	calm as the wind, she's on my mind

**Author's Note:**

  * For [bluestoplights](https://archiveofourown.org/users/bluestoplights/gifts).



> for lovely sandy, whose birthday is today, have some au because why the hell not :)

Graham banged his head on the cheery tablecloth with a loud thump, a groan echoing his displeasure. “I’m sick of the music in this place I’m telling you.”

“Right,” Killian drawled, sipping the remnants of his coffee. Ruby passed by their table, rolling her eyes.

“I can hear you, you know.”

Graham rapidly straightened up, only managing to bang the table with his knee and almost knocking down everything on it. He gave Ruby a long-suffering sigh. “If I said ‘no offense’ would it actually make a difference?”

“In your dreams,” she huffed, booping him on the nose with her free hand. “No more pints for you in the mornings, buddy.”

Expertly picking up the abandoned pancakes Graham hadn’t been able to finish on his own - a night of hard liquor would do that to you, kids - she directed an amused wink in Killian’s direction and left. Killian tiredly rubbed a hand over his face, trying in vain to recall what excuse he had been fed in order to accompany Graham here when he would have to run in order to get to his class later in the day.

“Um, Jones?”

“Yes?”

“Be a dear and check out table number seven.”

He frowned, noticing Graham’s befuddled face. “Why?”

“Believe me, you want to do what I say.” His friend looked… giddy, all of a sudden. Which should have been the first red flag, considering thirty seconds earlier he had been about to pass out on Killian.

“If this is one of your pranks I swear to God, Humbert…”

“It is not, now would you just look over there?” Killian sighed, and started turning on his chair when Graham’s hand leapt out and grabbed his arm, stilling him. He raised confused eyes towards his friend to find him looking at him like he was out of his mind. “Be anymore obvious, now would you?” he said through gritted teeth.

“Now it turns out I have to be subtle about it? What the hell is up with you?” he asked, annoyed. Graham’s head bowed the tiniest bit, busying his hands with a napkin and dropping his voice.

“That’s your dream girl, right over there.”

Killian’s eyes rolled on their own volition. If he had gotten a buck every time Graham joked about Killian’s conquests, he’d be sodding rich by the ripe age of 25. With a sharp remark on the tip of his tongue about how it was not nice to make fun of his troubled - more like non existent - romantic life, he looked where Graham had pointed him out to and felt his mouth go dry in seconds.

Emma Swan, her sisters and mother were sitting in a booth, excitedly talking over one another and enjoying a grilled cheese like there was nowhere else she’d ever want to be.

Emma Swan, also known as his first and most prominent celebrity crush. Emma Swan, 24, actress, currently living between New York and Los Angeles. Emma Swan, talented beyond words, known orphan, adopted when she was a teenager by the blonde woman sitting with her, Ingrid, who had also taken care of her deceased sister’s daughters. Emma Swan, brokenhearted after an affair with a costar six years prior. Emma Swan, picture lover, book addict and loyal to her fans to a fault.

Emma Swan. Single perfect human being.

The sight was so inherently alien and familiar at the same time, that a sharp pang of longing stroke his chest, knocking the wind out of him. From the corner of his eye, he saw Graham’s hand fiddling inside his jacket, and after a moment he realized why.

He knocked the phone out of Graham’s hand right after he heard the unmistakable click and it fell to the table with a bang, yet he had no time for the offended face his friend gave him. “Are you insane? Drop that right now, you wanker. As if she needs another drunken idiot taking pictures of her while she’s trying to have lunch with her family in peace.”

Graham just smirked. “It wasn’t her I was taking a picture of. I wanted to remember that whipped face of yours.”

“Asshole.”

“Thank you.” God, Killian wanted to punch him. He passed a hand through his hair, ignoring Graham’s snickering. “So. What are you gonna do?”

Killian gave him what he hoped to be a bored look. “Set fire to your phone so that picture never sees the light of day?”

“Very funny. I meant about your blond dream.”

“What do you expect me to do?”

Graham lounged on his chair, shrugging his shoulders in that graceful way of his even when he was three sheets to the wind. “Oh, I don’t know. Go over, say hi, proclaim your unconditional love for her, ask her hand in marriage, the whole shebang?”

The bored look morphed into one of incredulity, and he narrowed his eyes as he studied Graham’s mug, wondering if Ruby had decided to make Graham’s coffee the Irish way. “Are you still drunk? Wait, don’t answer that.”

“I’m not joking around. Walk over there and ask for an autograph or a picture with her.” He waved a hand in Emma’s direction, and Killian felt himself flush with embarrassment at the prospect of her realizing they were talking about her. (He needn’t had worried - she was still digging into her grilled cheese and listening intently at whatever her sister Anna was saying.)

“I’m not doing that.”

“Why not? It very well may be your only chance at talking to the girl of your dreams.”

If possible, his flush spread wider. It wasn’t like he had never talked about his admiration for Emma Swan with Graham, but he hadn’t realized he had let his embarrassingly big fat crush on her show  _that_  much. “She’s not the girl of my dreams. She’s just…”

“The girl you dream of being with. Also known as ‘the girl of your dreams’” Graham replied knowingly. Killian shook his head.

“If she’s a celebrity it doesn’t really count.”

“Why?”

“Because it’s never happening anyway.”

“You don’t know that.”

He chuckled, letting his gaze linger subtly to the table where the girl of his dreams -  _damn you, Graham_  - sat. “Yes I do. She’ll be gracious and polite and perfect, she’ll sign a napkin or my biology notes, and that’ll be it.”

The thing was… he wouldn’t mind at all if that was it. That’d be far more than he had ever hoped of getting, either way. Of course he had daydreamed of running into her, in numerous ways: at a concert, at one of her sets, at a bar, at ComicCon. (What could he say: he was a sad,  _sad_  example of a fan with a hopeless crush on the most beautiful, talented, funny and kind actress in the world, and his subconscious seemed to think she would find him as captivating as he did with her.) Nevertheless, just because she was there it didn’t mean one of those ridiculous scenarios his mind loved to conjure would play out.

Graham’s glare took him by surprise. “So? Better than sitting here or at home later moping about what could have happened if you had just listened to your wise friend.”

“My wise, drunk friend who usually comes up with the worst ideas ever, you mean.”

“Once in a lifetime, Jones.”

“I’m not doing it.” He raised his hand, and Ruby approached them, swaying her hips the way that got her the higher tips out of the entire work body in the diner. “Ruby, the check when you can.”

Graham groaned, and Killian almost hit him when the sound caught table seven’s attention. Killian did his best to ignore the prickling sensation of being observed, but when he peeked from the corner of his vision, nobody was giving them the time of the day. The world made sense again,  _stick to the status quo_  and all that.

“Oh, come on! You have pined for this girl since forever, now she’s sitting fifteen paces from you - and you’re telling me you’re not gonna do anything?”

He took out a twenty and left it on the table for Ruby. “That’s exactly what I’m telling you.”

“You guys leaving already? That was fast.”

Graham actually pouted at her. “Jones’ being a ninny, please knock some sense into him.”

“Hush, let him be,” she chastised him, and Killian smiled gratefully at her.  

“Thanks, Ruby.”

At least someone wasn’t giving him a hard time, even though Graham clearly wasn’t about to give up.

“I just don’t get why you’d let this opportunity pass you by.”

At that, finally, Killian’s resolve slipped and he banged his hand on the table, as quietly as he could but driving the point home. “Because I’ve read enough about her to know that she has very little time with her family, and she values her privacy. I don’t want to intrude in what seems to be one of the few times she’s with her loved ones.”

And he  _knew_. He had read enough about her, seen the pictures - the tired, strained smiles when fans demanded for pictures right when she had been with Elsa or Anna or Ingrid. He knew she would never say no to a fan, and he loved that about her, but the broken look on her face when someone mentioned her family and the distance between them when she was abroad shooting, at cons or giving interviews had made him see something painfully familiar, something that he had always considered linked them together.

(Being away from family and not getting enough time with them when you actually got to see them sucked alright.)

He was rudely brought back to the present as Graham shook his head, sending him a pitying look. “That reached ninny levels I wasn’t ready to witness.”

“Shut up.” Leaving the booth, he grabbed his jacket and shrugged it on in one fluid motion, picking up his wallet, phone and keys from the table. “See you tomorrow.”

He nodded at Ruby as he walked out, and as he reached the door, he couldn’t help himself and looked back at table number seven. Her hair shone like a halo around her, strands falling over her face, and he had never been more tempted of running his fingers through it than in that moment. She grinned at her mother, big and honest, and he belatedly realized how her smiles for the latest fifteen minutes had been the most beautiful he had ever witnessed since he had first laid eyes on her on his screen.

Maybe because they were  _hers_ , Emma’s and not some character’s, somewhere where she felt at home and safe.

Somewhere where he didn’t belong.

Pushing the self-pitying thoughts away -  _God_ , how emo could he get, really? - he shook his head and left, the bell above the door loudly signaling his exit and catching Emma’s attention, who stared at his retreating form for a while until her sister directed a question at her.  

Graham noticed the exchange from his place, patience running thin. “Ruby?”

“Yes?”

“Could I borrow a pen?”

She pursed her red lips with a curious look, but finally offered him her glittery pen. She examined the room to check nobody needed her for a minute, and leaned over his shoulder as Graham picked up a new napkin from the holder and laid it in front of him like a blank canvas. “What are you exactly planning?”

“And what would the fun be if I told you?”

She sent him a warning look, but as the kids in table fourteen noisily clamored for a refill she sighed and left his side. “This’d better be good.”

* * *

Emma called for the girl with the red streak in her hair and alarmingly short shorts. “The check when you can, please.”

The brunette grinned. “Coming right up. Also - miss Swan?”

The fact that Emma didn’t even blink whenever strangers called her by her name spoke volumes of her life. “Yes?”

“I have something for you.”

Emma’s eyes widened. Huh. “Oh. What is it?”

The waitress’ smile was full of mischief. “From a secret admirer.” As if on autopilot, both Elsa and Anna chorused an ‘awwwwwwww’, and she turned to glare at them.

Turning her attention back to the brunette, she braced herself for awkward fan encounter right after she had devoured two grilled cheeses. “Where is he? She?” she added.

“He left.”

Anna, Elsa and Ingrid all gasped in surprise, and Emma cocked her head to the side, confused. “He did?”

The waitress - Ruby, her name-tag read - nodded. “Yeah. In fact he didn’t want to interrupt, so he left, but his very meddling friend insisted on leaving this for you on his behalf.”

“Awwwwwwwwwwww!”

She turned to her sisters. “ _Seriously_ , you two?” Now, more curious than anything, she took the napkin from Ruby.  “Thank you.”

Ruby left with a conspiratorial smile, and as soon as she was on her way, Anna and Elsa huddled their heads together, just like they had when they were younger.

“So. Let’s hear it then,” Anna declared, eagerly looking at the napkin. Emma gaped at her.

“You seriously don’t expect me to read it aloud.”

Elsa unexpectedly whimpered at her side, clutching her side, face morphed in pain. Emma leaned over her, worried, not knowing what to do with her hands. “Elsa! You okay?” Before she could do anything about it, she saw the napkin fly from her hand as Anna took advantage of the distraction and took it from her with a triumphant look.

“Tada!”

Emma turned resentful eyes towards Elsa, who was right as rain. Ingrid shook her head sadly. “Emma, I honestly can’t believe you fell for  _that_  again.”

Crossing her arms, she angrily slouched on her seat promising herself never to offer any help to these two again. “You are bad people and I hate the both of you.”

“No you don’t. Now shhhhh.” Anna cleared her throat and started reading. “ _Dear Emma, I’m writing to you on this lame napkin so you know that my good - read as ‘whipped’ - friend Killian was here earlier (dark hair, blue eyes, nice chap overall, ladies fall for it all the time). He’s been a follower and admirer of your work since I have known him, and almost passed out when he realized you were sitting two tables over. Alas, he is, as I said, lame and whipped, and, in his own words, ‘didn’t want to interrupt because he knows how much she cherishes her time with her family’, and didn’t feel like intruding. So that’s why the poor sod didn’t even try to say hi. But now you know at least that my friend was here and truly thinks you hang the sun and the stars in the sky and respects you so damn much he just wished for you to enjoy your time with your relatives. Cheers. Signed: the half drunk guy at table number 10._ ”  

There was a pregnant pause, all the noise from the diner coming to her ears muffled and delayed. “Wow.”

“Wow indeed.”

“That was  _so_  nice of him,” Anna pointed out. She stopped Ruby as she walked back carrying a tray with a loud ‘Excuse me!’ She approached them, bemused, and Anna inquired, “Who left this for Emma?”

Ruby shook her head in the direction of an empty booth at their right. “Customers at table 10, right that one.”

“The hot one in the dark leather jacket and his friend?” Elsa asked, and Emma’s face flamed in recognition. The guy who had left earlier, she remembered - she had checked him out a couple of times as he nursed his drunk friend back to the world of the living.

Ruby nodded. “The one and only.”

“Nice. Do you know them?” Anna wanted to know, and not even Ingrid’s elbowing stopped her from asking.

“Yes, but I’ve been asked to preserve their privacy.”

At that, the four women gaped at her. “Are you kidding us? They left a note but no way of contacting them?”

Ruby shrugged. “I’m pretty sure Killian didn’t even know.”

Emma considered this. It made sense - if the guy had wanted her to know who he was, he’d have said something. “Huh. So this was all a set up by his friend?”

“Something like that.”

“What a lousy friend.”

Ruby’s laugh tinkled, clear like a bell. “Tell me about it. Killian’s gonna freak when he finds out.” Wiping their table with a rag, she winked once more and left. Elsa crossed her arms over the table and narrowed her eyes at Emma.

“So what are you gonna do?”

“What am I gonna do? I can’t do anything about it.” More like _I don’t want to do anything about it_ , but they didn’t need to know that.

“You could always thank him for being so considerate,” Ingrid commented, and Emma scowled - she had counted on her being on her side.

“He didn’t even leave a number or anything to contact him, what the hell do you want me to do?”

Her family gawked at her in wonder. “Seriously Emma? People leave messages on the paper to find people who catch their eye on the train and you’re telling me there’s no way for you to acknowledge this guy’s good deed?  _Really_?” After her impassioned speech, Anna breathed a laugh and resumed her professional pose, crossed arms and all. “So. What are you going to do?”

“I’m guessing you’re gonna tell me anyway, so who cares what I think.”

“That was so mature,” Elsa complimented her, throwing an arm over her shoulders and hugging her to her side, and Emma grumbled a thank you in response.

Anna’s hand, palm up, dangled in front of her. “Gimme your phone.”

She fearfully stared first at her mother, then at her sisters. “I’m gonna regret this, aren’t I?”

“Possibly.”

* * *

It had possibly been the longest and most torturous class in his entire education, so Killian could consider his phone’s vibrating in his pocket as the perfect distraction as he took it out to read his text. To be perfectly honest, he wanted nothing more than to get home and crawl into bed. Play sad ballads. Mope for a bit.

He was so ridiculous, God. Maybe Graham wasn’t  _that_  far off when he called him a drama queen.

Shaking thoughts of his depressing evening away, he frowned when he read Ruby’s name. She had texted him a link, and he couldn’t be more surprised when he realized it was to a tweet.

A tweet from Emma Swan’s official account.

He stopped breathing altogether as his eyes read.

_Thank you, mysterious Killian in the diner, for your kindness, I hope to make it up to you the next time we run into each other._

_And thanks to his drunk friend who made us aware of mysterious Killian in the first place._

With shaking fingers, he went through his contact lists and called Graham, his voice wavering when his friend picked up. “I’m gonna murder you.”

Graham’s laugh didn’t sound apologetic at all. “You’re welcome, buddy.”

* * *

The next week, Emma found herself exiting her place and hiring a cab, giving an address she hadn’t really expected to come back to. It wasn’t like she hadn’t liked the place - it had been familiar, inconspicuous and perfect for the get together with her family. The special had been to die for, too.

Also, the mysterious stranger who may or may not had been crossing her thoughts since that day may or may not frequent the diner in question, if the gorgeous brunette’s familiarity with which she talked about him and his writing-on-napkins friend was anything to guide her by.

So that may or may not be the reason why she ended up at the cheery, fairytale-ish styled diner’s door. She swatted at a stray curl that had escaped her ponytail, annoyed, and fixed her scarf over her shoulder and, trying to stomp down on the nervous fluttering inside of her belly, let herself inside.

The fluttering became a full-on shiver as she noticed dark mysterious Killian sitting at the counter. She couldn’t help but mentally kick herself as she took him in - this guy had nothing on whatever hunk she had played against on some flicks, all leather and dark hair and blue, glinting eyes.

It took her a beat to realize that those eyes weren’t fixed on hers, though, but in another girl standing next to his seat.

The full-on shiver quickly dimmed until it was just a gentle vibrato humming under her skin. She breathed in through her nose, and looked over the diner, searching for somewhere to sit. Noticing the empty booth right by the counter, she made her way over there, but she caught a bit of the conversation in which Killian and the stranger were in.

She felt herself smile, amused beyond control, as he tried to explain himself to the girl, who had a map spread before her. Her English was limited to say the least, and from the accent she could tell she was Portuguese. From what she could hear, he wasn’t having any luck by trying to explain himself in French, and both were getting exasperated at their failed efforts. Emma stepped up to them, ignoring Killian’s wide eyes, and managed to explain the relieved and starstruck girl how to get to her friend’s place, where she was supposed to meet her. After a hug and a brief exchange, she waved her goodbye and rounded back to find Killian and Ruby staring at her.  Ruby whistled. “That was impressive.”

She fought a blush, and took a seat at Killian’s right, taking notice of the way he stilled in his chair. “A character I played for a comedy show was fluent in Portuguese. I guess it kind of stuck.” She picked up a straw and played with it for a moment, adding carefully, “I may also have bought a book or two and tried to learn a bit on my own, but I’m afraid I’m not very good.”

There was a loud throat-clearing sound, and she looked at her left, locking eyes with Killian. “Sounded good to me,” he admitted, and her blush pronounced.

“Thanks.” She paused, biting her lip and feeling like a teenager all over again. “Killian, right?”

He looked about to pass out, and he shouldn’t look this adorable, dammit. “Yeah. Killian Jones.”

“I’m Emma Swan.” She cringed as soon as she said it, flinching, and quickly tried to correct herself, “I know you know that, sorry, it’s just…”

She was swiftly interrupted by his offered hand, dangling in front of her. “It’s okay. Nice to meet you, Emma.”

Before she could do or say anything potentially embarrassing, she took it in hers, and the earlier shudder came back full force. “Likewise.” The handshake lingered for a second longer than she’d have ever felt comfortable with, but she was oddly reluctant to pull her hand away, and so did he. She cleared her throat, silently thanking Ruby for her cocoa and carefully swiping at the whipped cream with her finger. She licked it off, and couldn’t help to inwardly smile at the choked noise coming from her left. She braced herself for a moment, and then, “I - I don’t know if you saw what I tweeted, I didn’t know how to…”

“I did. Someone linked me to it because they can’t bloody well leave me alone,” he said, sending a glare over the counter at Ruby, who just shrugged and left with her tray, humming under her breath innocently. They stayed silent for a moment, as she fingered the corner of the counter, trying to piece this guy out.

“You didn’t reply.”

He inhaled sharply. “I didn’t think you’d see it if I did. Or you’d believe me if I told you it was really me.” He let a disbelieving laugh under his breath, still not meeting her eyes. “Or that you’d still remember about it. I wouldn’t blame you if you didn’t.”

She knew what he meant - there had been a silly amount of users changing their names to Killian and using icons that wouldn’t let her identify them. She guessed he had a point, but then, she didn’t want to admit that she had read each and every of her mentions just in case the real him showed up. “I hadn’t. I truly appreciated what you did. You’re right, I don’t normally get to spend time with my family, so I really am grateful for that.”

Their gazes locked for a long moment, - and  _Jesus_ , were they blue, -and then, the unthinkable.

His lips curled into a smile.

“You’re welcome.”

She noticed her own mouth curving at the sight, and she looked down, still fiddling with the straw in her hands. Her teeth caught her lip, and she gave him a coy look. “So. Aren’t you going to ask for an autograph or a picture?”

He shrugged, even if her cheeks had tinted a light pink at the mention of a picture. “I’m okay right now.”

There was a loud ring, and he scowled at his phone, glowing on the counter. “Dammit. Sorry.” He looked apologetically at her, and she just waved it away, going back to her cocoa.  

That didn’t mean she couldn’t hear the exchange, though.

“Hello?”

Emma couldn’t really hear the voice on the other end, but only caught Killian’s scandalized face. “How the hell -” his eyes found Ruby at the other side of the diner, and he sputtered, making her laugh. “You two are impossible,” he added into the receiver.

“You’re welcome,” Ruby called, still laughing, and gave Emma a thumbs-up, who giggled into her mug. Killian just rolled his eyes.

“I’m hanging up now.” He did, shaking his head and leaving the phone by her mug, and she tried  _really_  hard not to rise an eyebrow at what she saw. “Sorry for that,” he said.

“Never mind that. I have a  _really_  more pressing matter to discuss right now.” She inched closer to him, and bit down the urge to smile at the amazement in his expression as he mimicked her.

“What is it?”

She took his phone and held it up. “Is your phone background picture really me?!”

(Spoiler - It  _definitely_  was her.)

He tried to take it away from her, his arm leaping out to grip her hand, but she was cradling it against her chest and laughing maniacally. “You’re blushing,” she sing songed.

“I’m not.”

“You  _so_  are.”

“I’m  _not_.”

She laughed even harder at how the tip of his absurdly cute ears had turned red. She frowned as she observed the picture - it was from her last movie, and she looked fine alright, but yeah, whatever. She turned towards him, raising a finger in the air. “Normally I’d consider this really weird but it is really cute at the same time? I’m so conflicted,” she sighed affectedly, and he groaned again, hiding his face in his hands.

Ruby witnessed the rest of their morning together - the way they teased each other, the soft look in their eyes, how he held the door open for her when they were about to leave, Emma’s lingering kiss on Killian’s cheek with his number on her phone and plans to meet the following day.

She took a picture on her phone before they left, without them noticing, and texted it to Graham.

_You owe me twenty bucks_ , she captioned it, thinking back to her bet with him about how Killian would mess up in case Emma ever showed up again.

Her phone beeped.

_Dammit._


End file.
